Not All Myths are Great
by CouchPotatoGamer
Summary: Not all myths are based off of lies or the imagination of a great mind. Sometimes myths hold some merit of truth behind their age old tales that have been edited by the minds of the lesser people throughout generations. Some tales are immortalized, some have been lost to the ages. This is a tale stuck between being a forgotten myth and a great legend.


**A/N So this is a one shot that I had in my head for quite sometime now and i really wanted to get this down. This is also a small teaser of a story that I am **_**thinking**_ **about writing but i just wanted to get some constructive feedback.**

**More side notes at the end of the story.**

Ever since the beginning of recorded history many people, from lonely commoners to glorified aristocrats, have taken to writing stories. Stories that help people forget about the harsh reality of their world by giving them a gateway to experience adventure, friendship, love and this period of wonderful literature and arts people have taken to going a step further from fictional realities. From stories of glamorous knights rescuing the damsel from an evil king to the same knight fighting hordes of creatures, demons and monsters alike while seeking friends and comradeship from never before seen species such as elves, dwarves, giants and more. The grimm, creatures of darkness, only offered these talented authors more inspiration for their stories of fiction. From commonly known fairy tales such as _The Four Maidens_ to the lesser known tales such as _The Followers of Grimm_. This is one of those latter tales.

_**The Black Knight**_

For years all life has been at war with the soldiers of grimm, humans and faunus alike that has been shunned, outcasted from their villages only to fall under the influence of the wicked enchantress that commands and breeds the soulless husks of darkness. These soldiers have been changed, altered by the dark powers of the queen both physically and mentally to be the ultimate killers. Their strength is unmatched even by the eldest of the beasts, their will and determination is unbreakable akin to that of a mountain and their loyalty is unwavering to their queen. They share an appearance similar to their feral beasts. Skin as black as night and eyes that are pure red and burning with hatred. Segments of bone jutting out from their joints as a form of a natural armour. They have fought against all things natural for generation after generations and it was feared that there was no end to their blood fueled campaign. That was until a miracle was given, like a gift from the brother of light himself. A young child that was destined to put an end to this thousand year war, a destiny the parents and in fact all who will ever know her will be oblivious to.

A great storm has struck the plains surrounding the village of Vale obscuring all vision to mere feet in front of the person from heavy rains, only to be given a brief glimpse of the treelines by the occasional flash of lightning proving to be the best way to do so. Patrolling atop the wooden walls of Vale the guards kept a watchful eye both outside and inside the wall. Lightning the ground outside the walls and two of the guards recoiled in surprise before looking at the damage, seeing a blackened patch of grass decorated by scattered embers. The guards relaxed and looked onwards to the near invisible tree line. Another bolt of lighting struck, this time illuminating the entire plain up to the trees. Using this opportunity the guards looked towards the trees but immediately regretted doing so. Lining the tree lines were four armoured figures. Each one riding a black horse with pure red eyes underneath a bone plate, each breath released black smoke from its nostrils. The riders were dressed like the knights of old, armoured with metal gauntlets, greaves, pauldrons and more coloured in black with red lining the edges of each wore a fully covered helmet except the middle rider who held his helmet in front of him allowing the guards to get a very brief but terrifying view of its face. Pure black skin, blood red eyes and an unkempt mop of chin length white hair. The middle rider reached to their left and pulled out a pure black longsword with a crimson handguard and white handle. With a battle cry that could be heard over the deafening combination of heavy rain and thunder the four rides charged towards the wall, weapons drawn. One of the guards was about to call out before he was impaled by a thrown short sword. Out of nowhere a small figure garbed in black leather with red edges while also donned in a black hood of similar design leapt down and pulled out the black blade from the gut of the stunned guard while also spinning to stab the second with a small black dagger. Both guards fell and the citizens of the village of Vale were none the wiser. That was until the cavalry arrived. With a thunderous sound of metal hooves kicking open the fragile wooden gate everyone became aware of the presence of the soldiers of grimm.

Chaos ensued as the cavalry thundered through the village and slaughter anyone who stands in their way without remorse. Bodies of men, women and children alike litter the muddy roads of the settlement as their blood was drain from their bodies and seep into the ground, feeding the earth. The invasion was short lived on both sides as the five soldiers of grimm rallied at the centre of town. Four riders and one assassin stood in a circle while being pelted with rain, the rain bouncing harmlessly off of the metal of the riders while being nearly absorbed by the leather of the assassin. A silent conversation could be seen as the five nodded towards each other before branching off into different directions towards the many buildings that were dotted unevenly throughout the settlement. One by one the riders and assassin kick down the doors and each one bore new treats. One by one the riders drag out anyone who hid to the town centre. And one by one they were executed via decapitation. After moments of countless door to door searching and countless more executions the riders and assassin reunited among the mass of headless humans and faunus. The leader, the one who wears no helmet was about to call out to the horses when a sound like thunder was heard over the heavy rain. All five warriors whipped their heads to the main gates as more humans arrives, an entire battalion of three hundred strong human and faunus warriors of varying ages and genders ran almost savagely at the five while yelling their battle cry in unison. The battle was long and the ones who bear souls were losing more soldiers than they could imagine. The younger, more arrogant one were the first to die from their cocky nature before falling to the blackened blades of the eldritch-like warriors. But in the end the three hundred concluded their battle with only forty soldiers remaining, one of which was a battered grimm knight. The thirty nine soldier, all tired from their long exhausting ordeal, chained the knight up with heavy steel and dragged the weighty form of the soldier through the mud. The Few survivors of the original attack crawled out from under buildings or through hidden compartment in homes as they saw the tired thirty nine drag the body wrapped in chains. At first they were horrified at the thought that one of _them_ survived but as time grew onwards, so did their confidence and then in turn, their rage. The knight was stripped of his armour and hung by his wrists for all to see, leaving the near naked figure of the cursed warrior to any who wish to see in a closed of tent, possibly as a symbol of courage or to maybe be used for target practice. The latter is more likely.

Four years, seven months and eighteen days he stood strapped imprisoned, in those four years he was never able to regain his strength to break the chains and murder those who killed his brothers and sister. Instead he was forced to be a punching bag to most while also being a test subject to others. Time and time again everyday he was punched, kicked, burned, strangled, stabbed, shot and tested on by many angry survivors. Some of which were children angry for the loss of their parents or loved ones. The sound of the tent flap opening up could be heard. The warrior closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable beating he had to endure everyday for four years. But what surprised him was that no punches were thrown or object colliding with is body but a small gasp. Not a gasp of terror or wonder but of wonder. Opening his eyes he came face to face with a small child, a little girl who stares up at the monster of a knight with wonder and awe in her eyes. The little girl had pure black hair, deathly pale skin and dark green eyes. The polar opposite of the warrior with pure black skin, pale white hair and pure red eyes. The little girl showed no fear towards the bound knight, no anger or disgust was present either. Just wonder. A yelling was heard an the little girl rushed off, promising to visit again sometime to which the warrior couldn't help but chuckle.

Many more years pass and the little girl had upheld her promise, visiting almost everyday for many, many years. The warrior watched as she grew from a small child of four years old to a child in their late teens. In that time both have conversed deeply. The warrior admitting he was a monster and the girl confessing why she comes here, everyday. Throughout the time, even though the warrior was chained, they developed a deep bond that could only be found in close siblings for both are alike in more ways than one.

One day the girls father came to the tent to see his daughter talking to the soldier and naturally he was beyond furious, screaming at his daughter for endangering herself. The soldier knew why she came but he never knew how bad her situation was. She was force to confine herself to her home just to feel safe but everytime she sneaks out she seeks the company of a certain chained knight. The girl begged her father to release the knight, pleaded with him that with the knight she will no longer have to fear being outside but the father refused. Accusing his own daughter for falling under the spell of the knight. The girl was dragged by her father out of the tent, while looking back at the knight with tearful eyes. The knight just gave her a reassuring smile.

Days have past and the girl continues to sneak off to the company of the knight, despite her father's warning but today was no ordinary visit. Today she will release her one and only friend. The girl rushed to the tent with the key hidden in her dress while avoiding any passerby or witnesses as best as she could. It was a surprisingly taxing journey from home to prison but it was going to be well worth it to see her friend free. Upon reaching the tent she whispered the secret code word they came up with so that he knows that the visitor is only her before entering. She stopped dead in her tracks to what she saw. Her friends was beaten, battered and wounded all over with black blood seeping from his wounds. The girl rushed over and quickly unlocked the chains locked around his wrists, letting him fall with a loud thump. As if fate was cruel to her, the girls' father showed up, his face burning hot with rage at the sight before him. HIs daughter kneeling over the knight who helped murder at least half of the village and helping him up. Blinded by his anger he stormed up to the girl, his intent unknown but the knight had his suspicions. Before the father reached his daughter the knight stood tall between father and daughter, long pale hair cascading down over the front of his face giving the knight he look of a feral man, red eyes burning underneath the ragged curtain of hair. The girl rushed over to a nearby locked chest and opened it with the same key, revealing to the world the armour of the knight and the longsword of the leading rider. Ivory coloured wrapping hugged closely to a dark oak handle, the double edged ebony coloured blade was clearly still as sharp as it was all of those years ago and all that separates the two was a sturdy silver coloured handguard encrusted with a red gemstone and engravings decorated the handguard with the colour white as its lines. Garbed in his black metal suit of armour and armed the knight left briskly into the village and towards the main gate, however a shout of panic from behind caught his attention. Turning around he saw the child he witness grow into a young woman walking up behind him and berated himself for not noticing her change of attire earlier. No longer did she wear a frilly dress but instead she wore a pair of hard leather pants and a hunters coat, completed with the fur lining for warmth and no longer was her black hair hanging past her shoulders but tied into a braid that stopped halfway down her neck. She walks up to him with a bag on her back with a bow strapped underneath the bag along with a quiver of arrows. I'm coming with you she said with her green eyes shining with determination and the knight responded by putting his helmet on and motioned for her to follow and so she did with a gleeful smile. There were cries of protest to their departure but all were expressed negatively, but the townsfolk did nothing for they knew they were powerless against the knight. Upon reaching the main gates the girls father ran up and started to curse his daughter out of pure anger for abandoning her people and her responsibility, this caused the knight to stop. Upon seeing the still movements of the knight the townsfolk shouting were silenced out of fear as the knight slowly turns towards the father and stared him dead in the eyes. You are unfitting to be a father the knight said before walking out with the girl in tow and abandoning the speechless people of the original vale. With his sword in hand and a companion by his side the knight set out on an adventure to right the wrongs his kind has bestowed onto the innocent of the world. To atone for the sins his fellow brothers and sister have caused in hopes that they may become what they once were. Alive.

It was told throughout the generations that The Black Knight roams day and night, helping any and all who he manages to stumble upon whether it'll be small groups of people or entire villages. Even going as far as to help the original huntsmen to fight the forces of The Black Witch, Salem. But after the tireless battle, he vanished and no one has ever heard from him again.

**Ending notes: So yeah that was my teaser. Some of it may not makes sense such as "Why didn't I use speech marks with dialogue?" or "This is not detailed enough etc" but I want to say that that was done intentionally. The whole point of no speech marks and little detail in some areas of the story was so you will feel like it was coming straight out of an old fairy tale book or some shit like that because i'm pretty sure that speech marks weren't around for a long time so...yeah.**

**I also wanted to add that if I **_**do **_**decide or if i'm convinced to do the story then this will be one of a few fictions that I will be taking seriously while trying to make it lengthy for long term enjoyment. Aside from that feel free to give any feedback, any will be greatly appreciated.**

**Later!**


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